The Spark of Resistance
by ladyMagica18
Summary: Nearly thirty years after the destruction of the second Death Star, a chance encounter between a droid, a bounty hunter, and a former stormtrooper will spark a new war in the galaxy.*Will be updated with Lonely Dyad.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Star Wars or its characters. This is how I think the story could have gone. It will be updated with its sister story 'Lonely Dyad'. Please enjoy, and leave a review._

Chapter One

It is hard for anyone to see anything at night on the desert planet Jakku. Its inhospitable climate made it difficult for any living creature to survive there, and the people that did stay barely made up anything that could be considered a civilization. Only tiny settlements dotted the planet, with barely any working technology. For some, it was considered the perfect place to hide. More specifically, it was the place Lor San Tekka decided to hide himself and his secret. Though technically, it was Luke Skywalker's secret, and Tekka's promise to keep it. But the galaxy has changed since that promise was made, and the dark side was rising once more. If left unchallenged, the First Order would destroy the peace the Republic has been trying to keep for the past thirty years. _It is time for the Jedi to return once more._ So, he left a sign for the only person who would be able to bring Luke Skywalker back, Luke's sister Leia. It has been weeks since then, and Lor San Tekka had neither seen or heard anything from the Resistance or the First Order. Staring at the horizon, Tekka thought about whether his message was delivered, whether he was bringing down certain doom for this village. As the sun set for another day, he saw something coming towards them, an x-wing. Letting out a sigh of relief, he went to greet the resistance pilot. The person who exited the fighter was a tall, tan man with dark curly hair. The pilot's droid, and orange and white BB unit, rolled up behind him.

"I'm looking for Lor San Tekka?" The pilot asked.

"I am he." Tekka replied.

"My name is Poe Dameron, General Organa sent me to find you."

Nodding in understanding, Tekka lead the pilot to his hut. As he entered the hut, he overheard the pilot tell his droid to keep a look out. Hearing the pilot enter behind him, Tekka went to retrieve the leather pouch that held the map piece to Skywalker. Holding it, he felt a wave of nostalgia. Remembering when Luke and his nephew had rescued Tekka from the Knights of Ren. It was a shame what that boy grew up to be. Facing the pilot, Tekka handed him the pouch.

"Were there more I could do . . . but _this_ will begin to make things right." Tekka explained.

"Well this will most certainly make the General happy." The pilot commented.

"She'll always be royalty to me." Tekka stated with a whimsical smile.

"Just don't let her catch you saying that." The pilot quipped with a cheeky grin.

Just then, the droid burst in chirping a series of scared beeps. Both men gave each other a worried look before rushing outside. Poe grabbed his binoculars, and scanned the horizon. He could see four transport ships coming in hot. Jakku was a great place to hide, those same circumstances however, also made it easy for a surprise attack. Knowing that those transports would land any minute and unleash platoons of troopers, Poe faced the old man.

"Sir, you need to hide." Poe declared.

"And you need to leave." Lor San Tekka retorted. "The First Order cannot get ahold of what you now possess!"

* * *

Nodding at the order, Poe ran to his x-wing, his droid right behind him. Poe knew this was a risk, the General warned him about the First Order just before he left. He hated to leave a village this vulnerable to the mercy of the First Order, but Lor San Tekka was right. His mission was to get the map to Skywalker back to the Resistance. If he stayed, chances were he'd get caught and the map would wind up in the hands of the First order. Climbing into the cockpit, Poe pushed the crane down to bring up his droid. Strapping himself in, Poe could hear the tell-tale sounds of blaster fire behind him. Swallowing the guilt, he continued to prepare for take-off. The fighter was beginning to lift off when a sudden hit from behind stalled the engine. Poe returned fire, annihilating everything behind him, but quickly realized he wasn't going to be able to fly out of there. Thinking fast, he ejected BB-8 while jumping out the cockpit with his rifle and the pouch. Crouching next to the droid, Poe thought about his options. He was going to be caught that was certain, he just wouldn't make enough distance on foot. Poe looked down at his faithful companion. BB-8 is a crafty little bot, that had saved itself and Poe on a few occasions. The droid's small, light, round structure would allow it to travel farther unnoticed.

"I'm gonna need you to open up buddy." Poe declared, taking the small chip from the bag and putting it inside the droid. "I need you to take this as far away as you can, you understand? I'll come find you as soon as I can."

The droid beeped its disapproval of this plan, but Poe eventually got the little droid to leave. He waited until he saw the droid disappear over a sand dune before moving. It is likely that he's going to be caught, but that didn't mean they would take without a fight. He could also help BB-8 gain some extra distance by sniping troopers going towards the droid's direction. Settling himself on a dune left of the fighter, Poe got himself into position. He could see a couple stormtroopers moving towards him, and fired at them.

* * *

FN-2187 was on the ground. Finally, he was doing something productive for the Order. It is technically what the Order had trained him for, not just mopping floors. He was about to shoot at the hostiles, when he saw a comrade fly backwards. Rushing over to help the fellow trooper, he soon realized there was nothing he could do. The dying trooper reached out towards him, smearing blood across his helmet while shuddering their last breath. FN-2187 felt something snap in his mind, like a switch was flipped on for the first time. He was waking up, then he realized he was waking up in Hell. He needed to get as far away from here as possible. Jumping away from the body, he looked for a way out of this war zone. Everywhere he looked, blaster fire flew past his head. _Cover, find cover, wait it out, then run. _Diving behind a wall, he listened to the sounds of the battle. Soon enough, the sounds of screams and blasters died down. Peeking out from the wall, he could the villagers huddled together, stormtroopers circling around them. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him, and FN-2187 knew he was dead.

"Get up trooper! We're not finished yet!" The commander ordered, shoving a blaster into FN-2187's hands.

* * *

Kylo Ren remembered reading about Tuanul village years ago. It followed the practice of the Church of the Force, and was considered a sacred village. The church itself was created during the Jedi's purge as a way of preserving what remained of the former order. Parts of its practice involved abstaining certain amenities in order to become closer to nature, and there-in the Force. But that is not what brought him here today, rather it was a who. Their spies managed to find Lor San Tekka's transmission to the resistance, and track it right back to the source. His shuttle was finally given the all-clear to land. Ren could feel the anticipation build within himself. Finally, he would be able to find Skywalker and end the Jedi order once and for all, _finally, _Kylo Ren would bring a new order to this galaxy. Disembarking from his shuttle, he searched for the old man. All the villagers were gathered together in the middle of the village, with the exception of one man held off to the side. Ren approached the elderly man, noting that age did not grace him well.

"Look how old you've become." Ren greeted.

"Something far worse has happened to you." Lor San Tekka retorted.

"You know what I'm here for. The map piece to Skywalker, you will now give it to the First Order." Ren declared.

"The First Order rose from the dark side, you did not." Tekka stated.

"It seems as though you misunderstand the nature of the dark side. Perhaps it is necessary I show you its full potential." Ren threatened, trying to hold back his rage.

"You can try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family." Tekka reasoned, sounding a bit smug.

"You know, you are so right." Ren sarcastically replied.

Losing the last of his self-control, Ren ignited his crossguard saber and cut down the old man. Suddenly Ren felt a killing presence behind him. Before he even heard the blaster fire, Ren spun around, and froze the person and blaster bolt. The being was man, a pilot by the look of him, clearly not someone from the village. Two troopers subdued the pilot, and dragged him to Ren. Ren knelt down to study the pilot, whose eyes kept shifting from the ground to Ren.

"So who talks first? Do you talk first, or I talk first? I only ask 'cause it's hard to read your face." The pilot blathered, trying to exercise all of his bravado.

"He's with the Resistance. Search him." Ren ordered.

The troopers yanked up the pilot, and proceeded to pat him down. At the same time, another trooper searched the body of Lor San Tekka. Neither search yielded any results, but this was not a great disappointment to Ren. He would get answers from the pilot eventually. Ordering the pilot onto his shuttle, Ren heard Captain Phasma approach from behind. She awaited further instructions on what to do with the villagers. He looked back at the crying women and children being pitifully shielded by whoever was brave enough._ In order for a new order to begin, the pillars that held up the old order must be taken down._

"Kill them all." Ren announced.

"On my command. . . Fire!" Phasma ordered.

Ren impassively watched as every living being was shot down, until nothing moved. No longer having any need to remain on the surface, he left the troopers to search the rest of the village. Ren didn't walk far, when he felt something through the Force. Finding the source, Ren saw a lone stormtrooper looking at him, the trooper's body frozen in fear. Fear towards Ren was normal, his fragile temperament made it easy, but Ren could feel something more. Something small, almost imperceptible, nagging at him like an itch. Reminding himself that he had more pressing matters to attend to, Ren decided to leave the trooper for a later time.

* * *

FN-2187 felt as if he was having some kind of attack. He and his platoon had just returned from searching-slash-razing the village on Jakku, and he was becoming more aware and scared. He already disobeyed orders by not shooting at the villagers, giving the excuse that his blaster was jammed. Then having Kylo Ren stare him down certainly didn't make things better. The man was well-known for his unpredictable outbursts, FN-2187 had cleaned his fair share of them in his previous post, so he knew that whatever grabbed Ren's attention would result poorly for himself. Feeling all this fear building inside himself, FN-2187 suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He wondered if he was having one of those things, what are they called? Panic attacks? Ducking into a nearby shuttle, he removed his helmet and hunched over trying to catch his breath. He needed to get off this shuttle, get out of this system if possible. He's not a stormtrooper anymore, he no longer had the mentality. When the First Order realizes this, they'll send him to reconditioning. And if he fails that, they'll execute him.

"FN-2187, submit your blaster for inspection." Captain Phasma command startled him.

"Yes Captain." He instinctively replied.

"And who gave you permission to remove your helmet?"

"Sorry Cap-"

"Report to my division at once!" Phasma's stern order stilled every part of him.

"Yes Captain." He replied, putting his helmet back on. He needed to come up with a plan to get out of here, fast.


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own Star Wars or its characters. It will be updated with its sister story "Lonely Dyad'. Please enjoy and leave a review._

Chapter Two

Dancer's first impression of Jakku was not positive. It was a barren, desolate, junkyard of a planet with no semblance of any kind of culture. Frankly, it amazed her that people had lived their entire lives on the sandpit. Regardless of personal opinions, Dancer needed to work up a plan to 'possibly' steal a freighter. As a professional bounty hunter, Dancer was used to tracking down people or small personal items, never anything as large as an actual ship. Dancer had to admit that it was her own fault that she was doing this. She had been double-dealing between a couple of clients, and they were beginning to catch on. Wanting to distance herself from the situation, while hoping it would defuse itself, she went to Maz for a change of pace. Dancer had initially declined the job offer until Maz called it as a favor, and if Maz Kananta calls in a favor, you're inclined to accept it. And so here she was, two weeks later, tracking down the latest 'procurer' of the _Falcon_. She was beginning to believe this bounty was nothing more than a bootless errand. She forces herself to take a breath and calm herself. It wasn't just this job that was frustrating, but she's also been having visions in her sleep. It begins with a vibrant green island in the middle of a vast ocean, then a familiar voice calls her towards a man whose face she can never clearly see. _Put all distractions out of your mind and focus on the job._ As one of the main rules to bounty hunting, it had certainly helped Dancer survive the past decade. Leave out everything not relating to the job for afterwards, then move on. To the next job, the next planet, the next look. Landing near a small town called Reestkii, that put her about four hundred kilometers away from where she needed to be, Niima Outpost. Shutting everything down, she quickly grabbed all her essentials in the likelihood that the ship gets scrapped while she's gone. As she leaves the cockpit, she catches her reflection off a monitor and grimaces. While white is not the worst hair colour she has worn, it's certainly not one of her better choices. That, along with her temporary new wardrobe of beige and grey clothes with light brown boots, she looked like a dead tree. Moving on into the small cargo hold where her speeder waited, she double-checked that all her weapons were securely hidden in her vehicle. Putting on her goggles and wrapping a scarf around her head, she locked down her ship and took off. The sun was in the middle of setting when she landed, therefore at her current speed she should arrive at Niima in the dead of night. If she's lucky, everyone will be asleep, and nobody will be guarding the shipyard. A noise suddenly cut off her train of thought. Slowing to a stop, she waited to hear anything else. After a minute, she could hear a droid loudly cussing out somebody. Skimming towards the ruckus, she soon came upon a BB unit being dragged in a net by what seemed to be a local scavenger riding some creature. As Dancer considered herself something of an advocate for droid independence, it would go against whatever honor she had left if she left the droid to its grim future. Grabbing a blaster from her speeder, and tucking into her belt behind her back, she strode towards the droid. The droid continued to insult the scavenger, until it saw her approach. Kneeling down next to the snared droid, Dancer pulled out a knife from her boot and began to cut the mesh. The scavenger, clearly unhappy at the prospect of losing its prize, reached for its cattle prod. Just as it was about to use it, Dancer whips out her blaster and shoots the prod out of its hand. Dancer keeps her blaster aimed at the scavenger while she helps the droid out of the snare. As both she and the droid back away from the local, her aim still fixed on it, it begins to scream what she can only assume are obscene profanities before nudging its ride forward. Neither Dancer nor the droid stopped moving until both parties were several meters away. Putting away her weapons, Dancer uncovers her face and looks over her rescue. The droid is white with orange markings and is relatively clean, with minor damage to its antenna.

"Your antenna's bent, let me fix it." She offers, waving her hand forward. "So what's your name?"

"beep-beep boo-BREEP."

"Beebee-ate. Well, tell me Beebee-ate, did you run away from home, or did your thoughtless master leave you here to the mercy of scavengers?"

"breep boo-bop-bee-boop bre-boop!" BB-8 explains.

"You're on a top-secret mission, and you're waiting for your master to come back for you." The droid slides a nod in confirmation. "Well, as I mentioned before, this planet isn't really a great place for droids on their own, so how about this? I'm here for a job that's eventually going to take me off planet, and I wouldn't say no to some help. If your master still doesn't show up by the time I have to leave, then I can take you home and help you complete your mission. Sound fair?"

The droid starts to roll around in a circle like it's pacing. Calculating the pros and cons of its choices, and the odds of success. It finishes calculating after thirty seconds and accepts her offer. Grabbing the mesh net that had just held the droid, she led it to her speeder and made it a make-shift seat. Making sure that the droid is secured, Dancer recovers her face and continues towards Niima. The sun is nearly halfway under the horizon.

"BREE-ohh beep-bo-boop?" The droid inquires, making Dancer smile underneath her scarf.

"I'm a bounty hunter, here to retrieve the bounty of one Corellian YT-1300 light freighter on behalf of its rightful owner. Someone I have never personally met mind you, but that's another problem I'll worry about later." Dancer explains.

"bee-bo-boop?"

"No, this isn't typically what I do as a bounty hunter, but I was more-or-less coerced into doing this by a very powerful person."

The droid comments on how similar their situations are, to which Dancer chuckles at. The rest of the drive is silent, with an occasional nasty remark from BB-8. As the sun completes its descent into the ground, submerging them in total darkness, Dancer turns on the night vision in her goggles. The next hour is spent in silence until they reach the outskirts of the outpost. Scouting around the outpost, Dancer comes across, what she can only assume is, a make-shift shipyard. There's one ship she can't quite clearly see due to a sheet that might be her ship.

"Think you could keep watch while I check to see if that's my ship?" Dancer asks the droid.

It beeps in acquiesce, and Dancer helps it down. The two sneak up to the rear of the ship, halting at the sight of a patrol guard. When the guard finally move far enough away, the two silently rush up the walkway.

"Wait here, I'm going to check the ship's registration in the cockpit." Dancer informs BB-8, pointing at the corridor. "If you see about to come in here, come to me right away. Okay?"

The droid beeps back in affirmation. Dancer jogs into the cockpit. The moment she enters, she is almost taken aback the number of modifications she sees. The latest one appearing to be a compressor on the ignition line. Who in their right mind puts a compressor in a light freighter? Do they know nothing about ship mechanics? _Focus, you're here to verify the ship's registration. _Eventually finding it in an uncomfortable spot underneath the console, Dancer compared it to the registration she was looking for. _It's a match, finally I managed to catch up to you._ Having found all that she needed, she pulled herself out of the tight spot. As she reached BB-8, the droid started trilling a warning of someone approaching. Looking down the walkway, Dancer could see a shadow approaching. Motioning the droid forward, Dancer and BB-8 ran to the other end of the wall. Watching from the edge of her vision, Dancer sees the guard from earlier look down both ends of the hallway before heading towards the cockpit. Taking the chance to escape, Dancer and the droid rush off the ship and back to the speeder.

"Okay, now that we know it's my ship, let's come up with a plan."

* * *

It was in times like these that Poe was amazed with his own stubbornness. Granted, they were probably going to kill him before he could come up with an escape plan. He had gone through every type of physical "interrogation" he could think of, but he hadn't said a single thing about BB-8. Resting against the bench they strapped him to, Poe just focused on breathing through the throbbing pain that was currently his body. He wasn't sure how long he'd been at this, but he could feel the exhaustion baring down on him, threatening to put him to sleep.

"I wasn't aware we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board." A digitized voice commented.

Poe opened his eyes to see the infamous Kylo Ren only a few feet away from himself. Fourteen years ago, rumours spread about this mysterious man rising through the ranks of the First Order. Some even call him the Supreme Leader's right-hand man. Nobody knew anything personal about him, not his real name or voice, or even what he looks like under the helmet. There are speculations that Kylo Ren was the student who burned down the fledgling Jedi academy, but they were never confirmed since Luke Skywalker disappeared shortly after. There were only two certainties Poe knew about Kylo Ren, that the man is dangerous and did whatever it took to get what he wanted.

"Are you going to ask me anything, or are just going to stand looking at me?" Poe suggestively inquired, straightening his posture as best he could.

"I'm impressed." Ren admitted, taking a few steps towards Poe. "No one has been able to get out of you what you _did_, with the map."

"You might want rethink your technique." Poe quipped.

Ren slowly nodded before raising his hand to Poe's face. Poe suddenly felt a digging-like sensation in the base of his skull. The sensation then had a piercing feeling to it at the same time. Poe had heard stories of powerful Jedi who were able to probe minds of weak-willed individuals. Was that what this invasive feeling was? Poe threw his head back against the bench, steely all of his willpower against the probe. The feeling didn't go beyond the back of head.

"The Resistance will not be intimidated by you!" Poe confidently spat at Kylo Ren.

"That's fine, the Resistance isn't here right now. Just you Poe Dameron, and me, the man who will change this galaxy for the better." Kylo Ren declared.

Poe then felt the probe push into the rest of his brain. The sensation was overwhelming now, it is taking everything Poe has to keep his mouth shut. Poe can vaguely feel his lips purse as he leans towards Ren, all of his secrets threatening to spill out at Ren. The pressure in his head is constantly growing, and Poe swears he can feel fingers squeezing his brain. _Stop! I need to make this stop! _Poe begins to scream, about the map, BB-8, the last place he saw the droid, anything that will make the pain in his head go away. The pain suddenly stops, and Poe collapses against the bench. Relief floods every part of his body. Poe is barely paying attention to anything else, only just registering Kylo Ren's words. Then shame quickly replaces relief as Poe realizes what he just did. He gave Ren everything, BB-8, the map. The General, the whole Resistance, had counted on Poe to fulfill his mission, and he failed in the worst way possible. Poe closed his eyes and felt tears leak out the corners. _Sorry little buddy, guess I'm not gonna be able to get you._

* * *

FN-2187 didn't need to receive his results to know that he was being sent to rehabilitation, he just focused on finding the fastest way off this ship. Word spread that the Resistance pilot was slated to be terminated before the next work cycle. That left FN-2187 about two hours to rescue and recruit the pilot. He really hoped the pilot would be ready to help him and not shoot him at the earliest opportunity. Thanks to the conditioning process, the only thing FN-2187 was able to do was be a custodial ground trooper. Not having any flight capabilities meant he either had to spontaneously develop some, or convince someone to smuggle him off this destroyer. Since the last one would be easier to accomplish, FN-2187 reasoned that the pilot who is about to be executed, would be willing to help a stormtrooper in exchange for freedom. Entering the cell, he saw the prisoner strapped to the bench with another trooper guarding the man.

"Ren wants to see the prisoner." FN-2187 declared.

"I didn't receive any orders about this. I'm going check this first." The other trooper proclaimed.

"Fine by me. I'm not the one who has answer to Ren about questioning his orders." FN-2187 added.

The other trooper paused his action to reach his communicator. He couldn't blame the other trooper's hesitation, testing Ren's patience was practically a death sentence that Ren could execute from anywhere. After a minute, the guard unlocked the binders and FN-2187 grabbed the pilot. Waiting for the guard to rebind the pilot in a pair of cuffs, FN-2187 made sure not to rush out the room. Briskly, he led the pilot down a few hallways before finding an alcove the two of them could briefly hide in without anyone noticing.

"Listen to me very carefully and we both might make it out alive. Can you fly a TIE-fighter?" FN-2187 anxiously interrogated.

"Wha?" The pilot replied, shaking his head in confusion. FN-2187 yanked off his helmet, dropping it and his blaster to the floor.

"I'm helping you escape. Can you fly a TIE-fighter?" FN-2187 reiterated.

"Yeah, wait, are with the Resistance?" The pilot retorted.

"What? Do honestly believe that any Resistance sympathizers would last more than an hour around here? I'm breaking you out, can you fly-"

"I can fly anything." The pilot cut in. "But if you're not with the Resistance, then why are doing this?"

That was a fair question. Why _was_ he doing this? It would be easier for him to just keep and head down, go to reconditioning, and just remain oblivious to everything else. FN-2187 thought back to his first battle on Jakku, watching his platoon murder innocent people then burning down everything that was left. They even left the bodies of the fallen troopers to either burn or rot. His new-found awareness was allowing him to see everything he once knew in a new perspective. Like how the First Order was a cold, indifferent, ruthless organization. FN-2187 couldn't stop himself from seeing the First Order as wrong, nor could he allow himself to support any longer.

"Because it's the right thing to do." FN-2187 replied. The pilot's eyes widened with clarity and excitement.

"Alright then, let's get off this tin can." The pilot declared with a smirk.

"Really?" FN-2187 asked, stunned.

"Yeah, you got yourself a pilot. However, I can't fly with my hands cuffed." The pilot pointed out, raising his hands.


End file.
